Every Day
by LucyTheMarauder
Summary: "It's come to be kind of an entertainment for Emma, in this shop where she feels so out of place, to watch the brunette walking around the same aisles as the day before, and the one before that, and the one before that, and so on" Swan Queen shop assistant AU
1. Chapter 1

**First SQ fic I've ever written! I got the idea for this one-shot while reading Accidentally In Love by magicsophicorn . tumblr . com, makes no sense 'cause this AU has about nothing to do with that one, but hey it inspired me to write this, so go and read it, it might inspire you too.**

 **Eternally grateful to evil-isnt-born . tumblr . com for being an amazing human being and taking the time to correct all my mistakes.**

 **I'll appreciate reviews, even if it's just to tell me how much you hated the one-shot (in that case, please tell me why)**

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If there was one thing Emma knew about clothes - probably the only thing she knew about them - it was that a tight dress will give you a one hundred and one percent chance of getting hired by an old creep. And, of course, this time hadn't been any different except that this time she couldn't just chose a job more to her liking, since now she had Henry - her three year old son - to care for. So while she had not enjoyed the lascivious glances the man threw to her cleavage throughout the whole interview, or the way he seemed to have to swallow his saliva after every word he sent her way, it had served a purpose: she got the job.

Now, as the dyed-extremely-blonde teenager asks her about some 'summer collection' she realises just how much she, in fact, doesn't know about clothes and how, as the teenager reinforces, ill suited she is for this job.

They are not always like this - most of the clients are, but not all of them. Usually, there are old ladies who look at her with repulsion and superiority when they realise she doesn't know anything about the sure-as-hell-too-expensive clothes they ask for. And there also are teenagers like the one she just had to disappoint with her narrowed knowledge of "season collections". But not all of them are like this. At least, she can recall one of them who isn't: the middle aged brunette who comes every day at half past four.

They never talk and only on rare occasions does the woman decided to glance her way - but she doesn't take it personal, since the mysterious woman does the same to all the others shop assistants. She very often looks displeased before leaving. But then she comes back. Every single day.

Sometimes she buys something -like the tight pencil skirts she often wears - and sometimes she leaves the shop empty handed. It's come to be kind of an entertainment for Emma, in this shop where she feels so out of place, to watch the brunette walking around the same aisles as the day before, and the one before that, and the one before that, and so on. Maybe she expects to find something different, or maybe she just has some time to waste during a break from work. For whatever reason it is, Emma won't complain, since she does enjoy watching the woman.

Today is no different. The woman comes in, opening the double doors with both of her hands as if entering the hall of a palace, and steps into the shop wearing those heels that would inspire anyone lay bodily on the ground for her to walk over, just so her beautiful shoes don't have to touch the floor - heels that would probably cost Emma's entire salary, but would probably be worth it for how sinfully long they (would) make her tanned legs look. The woman's head is held high and - whoa, she's looking. She is looking and walking towards Emma with decisive steps, and Emma can feel her blood run faster as her heart rate increases with every step the brunette takes. Cold sweat is running down her neck and she tries to put on a confident smile - like she's supposed to - that probably looks more like a shy grimace as the woman stares profoundly at her. Way to go, Emma.

It seems like she's waiting for Emma to say something, so Emma ventures, "Can I help you with something?" Her voice sounds too shaky for her liking.

"Underwear."

Emma feels her face turn bright red, and she realises that this is the first word she has ever heard the attractive brunette pronounce with that raspy voice of hers.

"Underwear." It sounds like a question and a statement when Emma repeats the word.

"Yes. Underwear." The brunette rolls her eyes, and Emma realises it should be illegal to look so gorgeous while being so condescending. "I'm not sure where to find it in this shop, and I would like your advice." Emma feels her throat go dry, and it doesn't help her to to sound less like an idiot when she answers.

"My advice?"

"Yes, your advice. Now, are you going to help me or are you going to stay there staring at me like some lost puppy? Decide fast, dear, I don't have all day." The woman folds her arms and before Emma's eyes can drop to the obvious cleavage this action has created, she bites her tongue and motions for the woman to follow her.

Emma stares at the brunette as she walks around and picks some underwear sets, and tries not to imagine her wearing any of the provocative lingerie she is holding. When the woman seems satisfied, she asks for Emma's name before heading to the fitting rooms.

Emma decides that waiting for the brunette to come out is the clever solution to the situation, but apparently the woman has other ideas, as Emma hears her name being called from behind the closed fitting room curtain.

Emma clears her throat as she approaches "Yes?"

The curtain is yanked open, and Emma feels her heart sink as she stares at the woman inside.

"How does it look?"

"I think it looks se- great. Ms…?"

"Oh. Ms Mills. But I guess you can call me Regina since you've already seen me in my underwear." The added wink at the end of the sentence is all Emma needs to feel the air around her heating up.

Emma gives her approval to almost every single pair of underwear Regina shows her, but at the end Regina ends up walking to the cashier with just a black lace set in her hand.

"I really like the set you're leaving with, Regina. It looks stunning on you." Emma blushes when she realises she spoke out loud.

"I'm glad you liked it dear. I plan for you to see it again soon." With that the brunette walks away with a smirk, a bag in her hand, and her hips swinging from side to side, leaving behind an open-mouth Emma wondering if Regina will come tomorrow as she does every day.

The job just got interesting.

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 **To be continued...?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I owe this chapter to evil-isnt-born . tumblr . com (again) because she's just too amazing, and helped me with the edit of this story. So if you wanna thank her for being an amazing beta, go for it.**

 **I decided to continue this story if it gets a good response, the first chapter sure did, let's see what happens with this one.**

 **Hope you enjoy it!**

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Emma entered the coffee house **,** knowing the moment she stepped inside, which table she would be sitting attoday: the only table near the way **,** she could keep Henry distracted, asking him to point out every yellow car he saw passing by, and at the same time be able to spot her friends before they entered the shop. Already, she was mentally preparing herself for a long evening of love sick glances between her two best friends.

It's not that she didn't like them - she loved both of them with her whole heart, but sometimes they didn't seem to realize that their public displays of affection could be a bit too much for anyone not participating. Though she supposed that the way they openly showed their love for the people they cared about was one of the things that made her like them in the first place.

She had needed a place to live after she got pregnant with Henry, and Mary Margaret had opened the doors of her home and her heart, letting Emma stay there for free until she could afford to pay rent. Even now **,** she worked as Henry's nanny every day while Emma was at work. No matter how much Mary Margaret insisted that Emma owed her nothing, that this is what friends are for, Emma still feels like she does. So if she has to stare at the displays of affection between her friend and her fiancé, she will. But that doesn't mean she enjoys the show.

Thanks to Mary Margaret and David, Emma learnt what having a family that would always be there for you feels like. She learnt that running away isn't always the answer, and she would do everything she could to show them the same love and support they gave her.

Now that she had a job, she thought that it was time to start paying some of Mary Margaret's kindness back, which was why she decided to spend part of her first salary inviting the lovesick couple in question to their favourite coffee house. Later,she planned to spend some of the money spoiling Henry.

She secured Henry into a high chair next to her, and as soon as she sat down herself, the voice of a tall raven haired woman with red highlights and a mischievous smile interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you ready to order?" She asked. Emma nodded in response. "What would you and the little fella like?"

"Two hot cocoas with whipped cream and cinnamon, please."

"Coming right up." The woman gave her another smile and walked away with a spring in her step that made it look like she was skipping. It reminded Emma of fairy-tales where the little girls always skipped through the forest towards danger.

'Towards danger indeed' Emma thought as she saw her waitress approaching a woman who was easily recognizable.

The brunette from the shop was sitting with her back towards Emma, three tables away. "Regina" she barely whispered, liking the way she had to roll her tongue to pronounce the 'R'. Her name meant 'Queen' in Latin and wasvery befitting of the woman, who held the posture of a monarch. Emma had to admit she found that out when she googled the woman in hopes of finding out something -anything- abouther. Yet the meaning of her name was not the only thing Emma had found out about Regina Mills: she also discovered that Reginawas CEO of a company Emma had never heard about.

As she stared at the woman, wondering what type of coffee the brunette was ordering, she didn't realize that Mary Margaret and David had arrived. Mary Margaret took Emma's silence as a sign of attention - though in reality the blonde was distracted by the woman three tables away from her, who still hadn't turned around and probably wasn't even aware of Emma's presence at the café - and filled her up with family gossips and other small storiesas David played with Henry.

"…and he's a real sunshine. I'm sure you'll find him adorable" this pulled Emma completely away from her thoughts.

"Wait, what?"

Mary Margaret smiled at her with sympathy "Emma, Henry is already three years old. I'm sure we can take care of him while you're out. We always have fun together when you are at work, so it won't be a problem."

Emma's confusion only seemed to increase. "Why would I go out?" The guilty smile on her friend's face suddenly made her understand what was happening "Oh! No. I'm not going out in a date with any of your weird friends ever again. Last time the guy didn't stop talking about fairy-tales and I ended up paying for dinner!"

"Well in his defence, he's a writer. And this time it's not one of my friends, Emma, it's David's. Did I mention he has a boat?"

"You are not convincing me this time, Mary Margaret. I'm not going out on a date with anyone."

Mary Margaret tookEmma's hands in her own. "You do realize we just want you to be happy?"

Emma knew that this was important for her friend, so sheheld back the comment that she didn't need a date to be happy. "I am happy. I've got Henry, and I've got you two." Emma could tell that Mary Margaret was holding back the rest of her argument, and she was grateful thather petit friend didn't insist on the date.

Instead, Mary Margaret started a new round of gossip, and Emma's mind drifted back to the woman who's back was still facing her. Regina had stopped coming to the shop since the last time when they flirted - well, Regina flirted. Emma mostly stared, dumbfounded, and babbled. She hadn't been very eloquent, andnow, she wondered if that was the reason Regina stopped her daily visits to the store. Maybe Regina regretted flirting with her.

Emma's stare must have been too obvious since Mary Margaret suddenly stopped talking to ask, "What are you staring at?"

Before Emma had a chance to answer, she saw Regina stand up, probably headed towards the cashier.

"I was thinking I should pay for our drinks, and maybe we could take Henry to the park?"

"Emma there's no need to pay for OUR drinks." David said.

"No, please, I insist. Just distract Henry while I go pay. Believe me when I say you don't want him to start crying."

Before either of them had a chance to answer **,** Emma headed over to stand in line behind the brunette. She was wearing a tank top, and peeking out from underneath were what Emma recognized as the straps of the black set Regina got last time they saw each other.

Emma stepped closer to Regina and leaned over her shoulder. "I hope you know I'm going to hold you to your promise" Regina looked startled for a second until she recognized the face of the blonde.

"You'll find out I'm a woman of my word." She said, smirking at Emma's comment.

"You didn't come back to the shop…"

"I had my reasons." Regina retorted.

"Will you?"

Regina rolled her eyes at that. "You'll need to be more specific with your questions if you expect an answer, dear"

"Will you come back to the shop?" Emma asked eagerly.

"No. But we could meet somewhere else."

The customer in front of them finished paying, and without another word Regina stepped up to the cash, setting her bill and leaving the café quickly. Emma just watched her, expecting the brunette to turn around and finish the conversation. Emma felt her hopes crush as she watched the door shut behind the woman, realizing that they didn't have a meeting place, thinking that this was the last she would hear of the woman and that their 'somewhere else' really meant 'nowhere'.

Yet as soon as she finished paying and walked towards her own table, an idea came to her, and she realized she knew exactly where to find the brunette.


End file.
